


The One He Needs

by scottxlogan



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Mutual Masturbation, Unrequited Love, past reference to charles/erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottxlogan/pseuds/scottxlogan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grief and loss have brought Hank and Charles together as Hank finds himself caught up in new feelings for his mentor. (Post-First Class and pre-Days of Future Past)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One He Needs

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a typical pairing for me to write or even one of my OTPs, so this is entirely new territory for me. I hope everyone enjoys it!

The door closes and Hank knows it’s another night of grieving the loss of what they once had. Without Raven everything is different—quiet even and the darkness that cloaks the school shows just that. Laying perfectly still in his bed Hank thinks about the routine that has taken place each and every night since Raven left them. He’d like to think that Charles shares in his grief—that he’s filled with his same lingering regrets over the mistakes he’d made, over the things he should’ve said at a time when his response determined the outcome of the future. There were so many times when Hank looked back upon that day—when he wished he would’ve stopped being so damned insecure about what he wanted to change about himself and focused on the things that he’d appreciated having in his life starting with Raven. That was the one regret he would carry with him in how he’d spoken to her the night before she’d left, but as he felt the slide of the sheet alerting him that he was no longer alone in his bed, he simply forced those thoughts of Raven aside.

Now he remained silent feeling the familiar slide of warmth into his bed. He tried to pretend he’d been resting, but deep down he knew he hadn’t been fooling Charles. He’s known that Charles would be coming to his room as he did every night when Charles had another nightmare that had proven to be too much for him to bear. Even with the serum Hank had put together to help Charles sleep it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t erased the pain he’d carried with him or the nightmares that consumed him after he’d lost Raven and Erik. It was too much—too painful to talk about, yet as Charles eased in beneath the blankets beside Hank, he knew that he’d have to make up for the pain Charles endured in other, more intimate ways.

“Hank, I know it’s late, but…” Charles began apologetically when his head lay in against the center of Hank’s bare chest. He trembled in Hank’s arms, doing his best to pretend that he wasn’t falling to pieces, but Hank knew better. He’d known from the first night after Erik left that Charles wouldn’t ever be the same. The night terrors were the beginning, but there were so many other signs of Charles falling to pieces when the school fell to ruins around them.

“It’s alright,” Hank whispered in the darkness, “I wasn’t sleeping either.”

“I tried to stay in my room believe me I did, but the voices were too much for me. The memories—I couldn’t escape them,” Charles offered up the same apologies that had fallen from his lips each and every night in his grieving.

“I know,” Hank answered simply. He hesitated contemplating his actions when he felt the slow slide of Charles’ lips over the center of his chest. It was a cry for help, a show of gratitude as Hank curled his fingers over Charles’ pajama covered spine. In thinking about the scar that still lingered from the bullet wound, Hank’s heart ached. That day at the beach had caused so much devastation and loss, yet it had pulled Charles and Hank closer together than Hank had ever anticipated when he’d first encountered the mutant genius nearly a decade ago.

“His voice is still in my head,” Charles whispered twisting in Hank’s arms, “His madness is still inside of me. I can feel his rage and anger and…”

“I know,” Hank pressed a kiss over the top of Charles’ head in a movement meant to soothe him. His arm squeezed tighter around Charles’ broken body. Although in the moment it didn’t feel so broken after Hank had managed to find a way to temporarily put Charles back together again. Physically he’d made an improvement, but mentally there was still so much that needed to be done to help Charles. There was no denying the tension inside of Charles, the need to banish the demons of his broken heart from his mind where Erik Lehnsherr was concerned. Hank knew better than to believe this sudden ritual of theirs was anything, but avoidance on Charles’ part and yet he’d allowed it. Truth be told he’d welcomed it night after night when Charles came to him, needing him and wanting him in ways that Hank hadn’t felt since Raven’s departure.

“I just wish it would stop. I wish I could forget,” Charles confessed choked up on his emotions when Hank reached out to stroke the side of Charles’ face. He raised his chin up seeking out Hank’s blue eyes through the darkness with a pained expression on his face.

“I can help you forget,” Hank promised squeezing Charles in his arms again. In an instant, he guided Charles up closer to him, bringing Charles over his chest when their eyes met again. Through the darkness Hank watched as Charles’ lower lip shivered, his mouth parting before Hank reached out to stroke the side of his face. His thick fingers swept over Charles’ cheekbone, memorizing the soft, smoothness of his skin that tapered off into the coarse facial hair that Charles had donned recently. It was a change from the prim and proper professor, but it gave him an edge. It made him sexier in so many ways as Hank arched up off of his pillow to bring his lips to Charles in a slow, sensual tease.

“Please Hank,” Charles murmured against his lips, guiding Hank to hold him closer yet. He could feel the way Charles wrapped his arm around Hank’s body, urging him to twist on the mattress so that they were lying face to face. For an instant they simply remained motionless lost in the memory of what once was. It was as if all the pain and suffering they’d endured had lead them to this moment, to their connection in ways that none of the others could ever understand. Charles needed him and he needed Charles perhaps far more than he’d cared to admit.

“I hate to see you hurting,” Hank whispered kissing Charles again and again. His hands clumsily found their way to the pajamas shirt that Charles was wearing. Plucking away at the buttons, Hank sought out the warmth of Charles’ skin. It burned to his touch, creating sensations inside of Hank that he hadn’t been aware existed when he felt Charles press a kiss over the side of his neck. Still undeterred Hank’s hands tapered off lower, gentle and thorough in his explorations until he’d reached for the waistband on Charles’ pants. The movement caused Charles to shudder, to bite down on Hank’s shoulder before he nodded encouraging Hank further.

Silently their lips met in another urgent kiss, no longer muted by misery and restlessness. Instead their mouths came together in a slow tease of passion and desire, quickly erupting when Hank rolled Charles onto his back. In the process he’d felt Charles reach down to grip at the top of Hank’s pajama pants, pushing them down over his hips, bunched up at the top of his thighs when Charles reached in between them to seek out Hank’s arousal. The movement caused Hank to gasp when he pushed himself up on his elbows seeking out the urgency he’d come to expect from Charles in their time together.

“I want you,” Charles divulged restlessly when Hank wrapped one thick hand beneath Charles. Carefully he raised Charles up on the mattress, awkwardly sliding Charles pajama pants down until they were at his knees leaving them skin to skin against each other. Their eyes connected again before Hank’s fingers returned to Charles, massaging and stroking him until Charles twisted on the sheet beneath him. His eyelashes fluttered, lids coming to a close as Hank sought his lips out in another kiss.

“I want you too,” Hank repeated again and again, unable to hold back on the truth that carried over him in watching Charles fall to pieces at his touch. Stroking his mentor Hank found himself faced with the one truth he’d fought to keep buried inside of him with Charles Xavier in his arms. With each planned out movement, every skilled caress, he realized that he’d wanted more than to offer his loyalty to Charles. Somewhere along the way he’d also lost his heart. The thought in itself was frightening because he’s known Charles would never be his—that their time together would never lead to a future given that Charles was still wrapped up on the loss of Erik, yet with Charles holding onto him, legs wrapping around Hank’s hips in encouragement, Hank thought about how he’d made this possible for them. He’d helped Charles have his use of his legs again and in return Charles had wanted Hank at his side. He’d needed Hank to support him, to care for him and to love him at a time when Charles, himself, hadn’t been able to return the favor to himself.

“Please,” Charles finally whimpered arching up off of the mattress when Hanks palm surrounded him, strokes becoming heavier, more determined. It caused Charles to twist again before reaching down between them to capture Hank’s arousal in his own skilled grip.

“Charles,” Hank breathed raggedly twisting on his side as Charles held him, guiding him to temptation again and again. Their movements grew more determined, mouths meeting the other in a frantic display of need and desire when Hank slid in closer, keeping one arm wrapped around Charles while Charles held onto him, pumping his fingers over Hank’s length in a strong, solid flow of movement determined and ready to take Hank over the edge in his desire, “wait.”

“What?” Charles questioned as Hank’s hand surrounded the both of them, guiding their bodies together, arousals rubbing up against each other, no longer guided by grief and misery, but lust and sensation as their kisses grew in intensity. In a wash of temptation, tongues and teeth collided, their kisses evolving into a need, a craving that neither one of them could ignore when Charles curved his fingers of his left hand into Hank’s shoulder.

The movement sent Hank down to the mattress with Charles over him, touching him, teasing him, keeping their bodies together in a strong, solid grip growing and expanding with each moan that fell from Charles’ lips. He shifted, rocking his hips recklessly over Hank, his body moving in an eager slide, creating a sense of motion between them over and over again.

“Charles,” Hank breathed his name arching his head back. He reached for the blanket beneath him squeezing it tightly as Charles continued to grind over him again and again desperate and frantic until finally Charles found his release spilling himself on Hank’s chest and abdomen. A moan carried over Hank as soon followed lost in the same wild abandonment with Charles trembling over him lost in a whirlwind of pleasure.

A few seconds of silence passed between them before Charles bent down claiming Hank’s mouth in a wild and reckless kiss, determined to carry the moment until the final seconds when Charles settled in over Hank’s chest to undoubtedly fall asleep and surround himself the rest of the night with dreams of Erik while Hank simply lay awake wondering why it seemed that everyone he’d ever cared about had fallen into the same trap with Erik. First Raven and then Charles, but for tonight Hank wouldn’t think about that. He wouldn’t lose himself to his self-loathing or the sadness that swelled up in his chest in knowing that Charles was trapped in another time and place dreaming about the man who’d broken his heart. Instead he would wrap himself up in the memories of their time together, savoring it for as long as possible with Charles in his arms, coming to him each and every night. Charles needed him—wanted him and yes, maybe he’d never love Hank the way he’d loved Erik, but somehow it was enough.

“It has to be enough,” Hank rationalized as he placed a kiss on Charles’ head vowing to himself that regardless of what the future had in store for them, he’d never lose sight of what was important. He’d never stop protecting Charles even if it meant losing his heart completely in the process.

“I won’t let him hurt you again,” Hank whispered when it was clear Charles had drifted off to sleep in his arms. He placed a kiss on top of Charles’ head hoping like hell that there would be a day when Charles would be free of the hold Erik had upon him and that maybe just maybe one day Charles would come to realize that he’d fallen for Hank instead. However, until that day Hank promised himself that he would keep his feelings inside, doing what he could to comfort Charles and never let him truly see just how much he’d fallen in love with him in every way imaginable. For now Hank could say to himself that he was needed by the man sleeping in his arms, sharing a present with him that none of the others had been privy to, but instead he resigned himself to the fact that as much as he’d longed for Charles, he’d always be the one that stayed behind. He’d be the one who cared, the one who had remained faithful with Charles at his side during his darkest hour, but deep down he knew in his heart even with the passion they shared, he’d never truly be the one that Charles loved. He’d never be that man that Charles had wanted to share forever with, but for tonight their passion had been enough. Holding Charles would have to be because if Hank spent his time focused on tomorrows, then he’d find himself in a deep depression. He’d wake up feeling inadequate and obsolete, but for tonight he is everything Charles Xavier needs and that is all that matters. Deep down he knows that is all it could ever be, but for the moment it's enough. It simply has to be.


End file.
